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Wednesday, March 9, 2011

You have been warned.

"Everyone should write poetry. Not everyone should inflict their poetry on others" - Some really smart dude whose name I can't remember. If you know who it is, tell me so I can give him his rightful credit as a really smart dude.
I am now going to ignore his wise advice, and inflict away. But I thought I'd give you fair warning.

Taught from the first
that you were here to satisfy my every thirst
were you cramped by my narrow needs,
my little dreams?
A god shaped hole means
a hole shaped god
and so you were no bigger than my wants
no grander than my greatest whims.
My pretty little god, my nice little god.
I kept you in neat boxes
leftover corners I didn't need.
Better than a genie,
my god-in-a-bottle
to forgive when I felt guilty
clean when dirty
fix my mess.
You made man in your image,
but I made you in mine.
But oh! you are infinite
and so I never knew you.
A crucible, but I like my dross.
"For who can see the Lord and live?"
A consuming fire
you'd make ashes of me.